


Dreary

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Emotional Hurt, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Zexion finds the organization tedious.
Relationships: Lexaeus/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Dreary

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The worst part of their missions, even more than the complete futility of it all, is how very _dull_ they become. Zexion’s been to every world available a dozen times, seen everything there is to see, and gathered an incredibly small amount of useful information. The times he’s sent to clear out heartless are even worse—the tiny critters are no match for him, and slaying them brings him no satisfaction. It serves no purpose. He finds their fruitless efforts frustrating, not because of their continued failure or the secrecy of those at the top, but simply because it’s not nearly intellectually stimulating enough. Zexion needs something that requires _thought_.

He isn’t given it. He thinks the superior is thinking of splitting them up—sending some away to a new location that few others have visited, and perhaps something interesting will crop up there. But one can’t simply _volunteer_ in the organization. He needs to be _chosen_. And there’s very little he can do while he’s waiting for that decision—he’s sent to investigate Wonderland and does so, his report returning bland and as dry as ever. _He_ comes back just as tired as his words. He plods through the castle with his feet heavy and his cloak itching to come off. He resents even the lesser Nobodies than twist along the corridor behind him. Perhaps it would be easier to be like them: unintelligent and unable to comprehend the pointlessness of his continued existence.

He reaches the open doorway for his room but makes a new decision. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts anymore. He hates being _alone_ in general. A part of him yearns for the days of old, when he was _someone_ , only a child, quietly excited to enjoy ice cream with his mentor after a long day of studying. 

He hasn’t had ice cream in years. Maybe a full decade. He figures it won’t have any taste anymore anyway—not until he’s _whole_.

He slips into a different room without asking. He sheds his cloak without a word. It falls to the floor, and he leaves it there in a messy pile, adding his gloves to the top. Then he strolls through the darkness, wrapped in the same black pants and shirt he always wears. There’s nothing in the room but one large bed, and the occupant looks over his shoulder to see Zexion coming. 

Zexion doesn’t explain himself. There is no explanation. A Nobody shouldn’t be lonely. A Nobody shouldn’t be able to receive comfort from another person. Maybe he won’t. Maybe it’s just a placebo effect. He lifts the blanket and climbs in behind Lexaeus, shifting forward to flatten against Lexaeus’ back. His thin arms reach around Lexaeus’ massive body, and one large palm presses against his hand. Lexaeus is startlingly _warm_. Zexion thinks he likes that. 

He presses his cheek against Lexaeus’ broad shoulder and hopes that if he does go to Castle Oblivion, Lexaeus comes with him. Maybe they’ll finally find something useful there. Lexaeus squeezes his hand. If nothing else, at least he’ll have one person on his side, and maybe someday, they’ll be able to make new memories of sharing ice cream together.


End file.
